


Sensitivity

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [57]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adorable Sherlock, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Smut, sensitive skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 03:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16276742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: Molly finds out Sherlock's skin is very sensitive. He's embarassed, but she loves it.





	Sensitivity

Biting her lip, Molly brushes her fingertips along the elegant curve of his shoulders. As expected, goosebumps spread immediately and the man snuggled up to her shivers, jolting awake. 

“Stop it”, he whispers sleepily, half begging, half demanding. 

Molly grins. 

“I love how sensitive your skin is. I’ve never seen the likes. You must allow me some experiments.”

Of course she is joking, still floating on the high of the last mind-blowing 74 hours. 

Sherlock however, sighs and rolls onto his back, brushing a hand through his hair before he rubs his eyes. Molly follows him, rolling onto her side and resting her head in her hand while the other continues to very tenderly wander over his clavicle, lingers in the little dip, then along the other clavicle, following an invisible trail down his chest where she curls her fingers into the little patch of hair. 

His nipples pebble and his breathing flattens within seconds, just from this. And when she ever so lightly tugs at his chest hair, he lets out a raspy moan.

Fascinating. 

Sherlock covers her hand with his, stilling it. He swallows, his lips trembling as the sensation of her touch still washes over him. 

Gosh, that man is beautiful. 

Then he opens his eyes, stares at the ceiling. 

  
“I will get better. I just need…I need to get used to body contact.” He is blushing, sweet man. “The skin will become less sensitive and then I will be able to…to last longer.”

  
For a second, Molly is grinning, wants to laugh and tease him, but when his eyes refuse to meet hers for a playful joke, she realises that he is…embarrassed. 

All humor gone, Molly shifts closer until her front is snuggled up againt his side. Sherlock’s eyes flutter close and he let’s out a shaky breath. Molly reaches out, tenderly strokes his face and turns it so he will look at her leaning over him. 

“Sherlock, it took us seven very long and lonely years to reach this point. Do you really think I will send you away because you don’t last longer than Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, First Movement?” 

Which is like 6 or 7 minutes.

Sherlock’s eyes widen. Molly smiles smugly at him, knowing how to impress her boyfriend, her lover, the love of her life. 

 

Giving into the temptation of his parted lips, Molly leans down to place a tender, lingering kiss on them, her lips brushing along his, then the tip of her tongue. But when his mouth opens to her, she retreats. 

His eyes are full of longing and his chest is rising and falling faster now. But he stays put, doesn’t reach out.

It takes so little to seduce him, to make him yearn for her. 

“I love this”, Molly confesses as she pushes the blanket off of them. “I love how you react to my touch. I love how eagerly you arch into me when we make love.”

To prove her point she rolls on top of him, a moan erupting when all of her front rubs along his. He does arch his back as his eyes fall close and a shudder runs through him. 

“Tell me”, Molly whispers against his lips, “tell me what you feel.”

 

Sherlock kisses her, then his head falls back into the pillow as Molly continues to rub their skin together. His cock hardens rapidly against her pubic mound. Sherlock might not last long, but he doesn’t need long to recover. Molly makes a mental note to compliment him on this. Apparently, his otherwise blown-up ego needs a little boosting when it comes to sex.

“Tell me”, she insists against his throat, “from top to bottom, Sherlock. Mind over matter, remember?”

Another moan that revibrates through her body. So sexy.

“Your breath,” he starts, his voice hoarse, “hot, on my throat. Your hair tickling my shoulders”, he gasps and Molly can’t help herself and moves her head so her hair tickles him some more.

Sherlock bites his lip, his hips buckling. 

“Continue”, Molly orders and licks along his throat from clavicle to chin, which she sucks on. His skin is prickly. After three days of mostly fucking, he has a stubble which feels incredible against her inner thighs.

“Your mouth, so hot. Wet lips. Tongue, your tongue, running along my jaw…fuck”, he grabs her hips, not to push her away but to pull her against his hard cock. 

“Your breasts are so bloody hot”, he pants, “your nipples are cutting my skin like little diamonds.”

  
Molly can’t help but giggle at his poetic discription.

  
“I can feel your ribs poking my skin…why is even this turning me on?”

He sounds almost frustrated and Molly strokes his cheek to soothe him, to let him know he’s safe with her. 

“I can feel your pulse in your abdominal aorta…it’s strong, so strong…your belly is warm and soft.”

She flexes her stomach muscles, if only to prove that he isn’t the only one with a - admittedly beautiful - toned belly. 

Sherlock moans, his hands grasping her hips tighter. 

“Continue”, Molly has to order when he doesn’t. He swallows. 

  
“Your bush, scratching my cock,” he pushes his hips against hers, “the heat of your fanny, your hip bones poking into my skin, your soft thighs…your skin is so soft and warm…”

Molly kisses him now and Sherlock eagerly pushes his tongue into her mouth, licking and circling around hers. His large hands glide up her back, leaving goosebumps on her skin for a change, and bury themselves in her hair. 

“You’re so sexy, Molly”, he whispers against her lips, urgently, desperately, “so goddamn sexy. I hate that I can only fuck you for a few minutes. I want to fuck you for hours. I love being inside you. You feel so fucking good around me. You’re so tight and hot, so deliciously wet,” he gives her a kiss that makes her moan, “I feel so close to you when I’m inside you, when I fuck you…only then I can believe this is real. That I have you…that you are mine.”

“Sherlock”, Molly pants, her hands cupping his face. Suddenly there is this urgency between them. 

 

Sherlock sits up, taking her with him, winding an arm around her. Molly automatically straddles him and lifts herself up on her knees. They are looking at each other, their eyes burning with need, and Molly hastily reaches down to position his cock. Sherlock barely has time to moan as she grabs him, for she already takes him inside her. 

“Yes”, Sherlock pants and stares up at her with such a yearning in his eyes she hadn’t hoped to ever see. 

“Molly”, he rasps as he pushes into her, his knees bent, using the leverage of his legs and arse. 

Molly pushes right back, her hips thrusting and rolling while she holds his face in her hands. They’re staring at each other, mouths hanging open, their hot breaths mingling. 

Sherlock grasps her arse cheek and stems the other hand into the mattress behind him so he has a better hold, can push harder, deeper. 

He is chanting her name over and over like a prayer - until it turns into a cry for help. His brows furrow and desperation lights up in his eyes. The hand on her arse grabs harder, his hips push deeper. 

 

There is something else in his eyes flaring up now, something that makes her heart clench. Before she comprehends what it is he is coming, his eyes squeezing shut. He shouts out his pleasure, his entire body trembling as he spills inside her. 

 

“I’m sorry, so sorry”, he pants, still caught up in his climax. 

When he has given her all, Sherlock shudders and buries his head in her neck, his arm winding around her, holding her tight. 

“I’m sorry.”

Molly almost bursts into tears at his tone. She hugs him close, one arm around his shoulders, her hand buried in his hair, soothingly stroking his beautiful curls. 

Sherlock is panting against her throat and Molly waits until his breathing has evened out to make sure he hears her when she leans down to whisper into his ear. 

 

“I love you.”

 

The lips against her skin tremble. She tenderly strokes his hair. 

 

“I love you, Sherlock. And I love making love to you. It’s wonderful. Every second. Don’t apologize for enjoying yourself.”

“I’m not-” he starts to protest, but Molly cuts him off. 

“I know. I don’t want you to apologize for that, either. Making me come with your mouth or fingers is heaven. I love it. You’re bloody good with both, Sherlock. And you coming inside me is amazing. For the longest time I thought you didn’t want me, so this…it means a lot to me that you find so much pleasure in me. I-I can’t explain it properly, I-”

Sherlock whirls her around mid-sentence, knocking the air right out of her as he pushes her into the mattress and covers her body with his. He is still inside her and he pushes into her, his cock half-hard. 

Their eyes meet.

 

There are tears in both pairs. 

 

Sherlock caresses her cheek. 

“You are beautiful”, he tells her, his voice and eyes soft. “I’ve always wanted you, Molly, from the very first moment.”

There is a little voice inside her that wants to protest, that whispers of all the times he’s mocked her breasts and made her feel unattractive. 

 

As if he can her this voice, he shakes his head and buries his face between her small breasts, kisses them all over. 

“I love them. I love them so much. They’re perfect. You’re perfect. I was an idiot, pushing away what I wanted most. I dreamed of your breasts. I had them in my mouth so many times, had to get myself off after those dreams because my cock just wouldn’t go down. So many dreams in which we were happy, where I was the man you deserve, where I made you scream and beg for more. Years, Molly. I had those dreams for years.”

He comes up from his hiding place between her breasts and looks into her eyes, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. 

“Every night in which I lay here beside you, watched you sleep, I wanted to reach out, to cross these few inches between us and take you into my arms. A few times I dared to hold your hand, or touch your hair…I loved you for a long time, Molly. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I’m still scared.”

“I know.”

They look into each other’s eyes for a many fast heartbeats. 

“Just tell me you love me”, Molly whispers, answering the question that lingers in his eyes. 

“I love you”, he obeys without hesitation. 

Molly smiles and strokes his cheek. 

 

“That’s the only thing that matters, Sherlock. We can work on all the rest. As long as you love me, you have me.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows twitch, his eyes filling with tears, but he swallows them down quickly, smiles and kisses her tenderly. 

 

“Now,” he whispers softly, brushing his nose along hers, “I believe you said something about my mouth and fingers earlier.”

Molly giggles, a shiver of excitement trembling down her spine. 

“Indeed, I did.”

“What exactly did you say again?”

He smirks at her boyishly. If he thinks she’ll shy away from a challenge, he doesn’t know her at all. 

“I said they feel very good on and in my fanny, Mr. Holmes.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you for refreshing my memory, Ms. Hooper. Ever so helpful.”

“I aim to please, sir.”

Sherlock purrs and suprises her with a nip at her bottom lip. 

  
“You do”, he whispers, “so bloody much you make me come like a teenager.”

  
Molly giggles, they kiss long and deep. 

  
“If you’ll excuse me”, he smirks, “I will put my mouth and fingers to good use now.”

“Finally!” she jokes and they laugh. 

Then Sherlock kisses his way down her body, suckling her breasts until she believes that yes, he finds them beautiful. 

 

And then Molly can only gasp, moan and scream with Sherlock’s head between her thighs.


End file.
